Of Three and|in One

A short homily/reflection on the Trinity

(As a mentor once told me, it is difficult to talk of the trinity for more than five minutes without committing a heresy. Let us see how I do.)

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Mother, Child, and Holy Breath.

Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.

Which of those acclamations resonate to you? Why does it speak to you?

The language we use about God matters. Of that proposition there is very little valid argument. The arguments are instead about the language. I’ve opened with three different ways to emphasize the nature of the three separate aspects, or persons, of the unified deity we serve. I’m personally comfortable with them all; the words are all attested to in the Bible—in other metaphorical language—to describe the three and the One. And there are more!

Make no mistake, the concept of the triune God is a proposition. And a doctrine. It was developed in council to explain how the Christian community could make sense of the fact that they believed in one God, the God attested to in Hebrew scripture and in the teaching of Jesus. But they had experienced God’s son in the world and the Son’s death, resurrection, and ascension. …And the moment of Pentecost(!), which we celebrated last week: the moment in time in which the power of God infuses the community… a power that Jesus promised to us…a power that is continually working in the world as our advocate and source of strength and inspiration.

I came from a denomination that seemed, at least to me, to downplay the Trinity, even though it was our orthodoxy. Baptisms were the only time I heard the “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” referred to at one time. Everything else was in (only) the name of Jesus. Of course God the Father was important and ever-present, but I personally found this unfair to the Spirit, who seemed to rarely make an appearance in our speech or prayer.

It was through my later experiences in the Episcopal Church that I found a wonderful effect of the Trinity. There is One God…with multiple access points.

I am always interested in listening to people talk about their experience of God. Typically, one person of the Trinity is emphasized over the others.

I’ve met people who resonate with God because the parent-child relationship is very important to them…their own relationships to their parents were wonderful or terrible. There are those who seek the strength of the all/mighty God, the strong warrior God, the God of sure justice…or the tender care of the God who protects us and covers us like a mother hen, under her wings (particularly Matthew 23:37, Luke 13:34, but also the image of protective wings in Psalms 17, 36, 57, 61, 63, 91 (sometimes male, female, or ambiguous)). It is also a way of showing one's devotion to the personally-known parent as Jesus did.

Many, maybe a majority, identify strongly with Jesus…his saving presence, sacrificial love, servanthood, the work of the Cross, and appeals to teaching. …The Sinner’s prayer in which some specifically ask Jesus to “come into their heart” very much endears people to God the Son.

And then there are those who primarily identify with the Spirit. This is the camp I came from. The language of the Nicene Creed… in which “the Spirit proceeds from the Father and Son” to affect on Earth and in our hearts. My own confirmation in the Episcopal Church... sacramentally understood that when the bishop confirms someone, the Holy Spirit descends upon the confirmand and spiritual gifts are bestowed. ...The giver of Wisdom, or Sophia (the feminine mind of God?), whom we heard about in the text today.

And yet, God is also One. How do you hold all three as one in your mind? Perhaps holding all as one is the easy part...how do you hold the three persons separate long enough to make any claims about them while maintaining the integrity of the One?

I’d like to offer my own imperfect metaphor. I liken God to an improvisational jazz trio: imagine God the father on drums, laying the foundation for the tune, Jesus on trumpet, the Spirit on bass. Three working as one, and yet working in their own ways…but also beckoning us to join them in the music, for we are participants in God's projects. The trick is to listen for the cues so we can play along to God’s rhythm…

God’s harmony…

God’s music…

God’s purpose.

I asked you earlier which acclamation you respond to most favorably and why. I also invite you to spend the day thinking about how God presented God’s self to you… the triune God who invited you into relationship, and who continues to speak to you. Do you identify with one of the persons? Can you keep them in unity? Which of the aspects (or persons) of God do you feel in your life? How may you thank God for that gift?

Amen.

Sermon, 5/9/2010

Sermon
5/9/2010
Easter 6, Year C
John 5:1-9

“Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me."
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I’ve spent about a year and a half now in discernment, a year of which has now been officially “in the system.” While going through the process, I came to the question of what I have to offer the church and others. It occurred to me that it is better to be excellent at a few things than mediocre at many things, so I needed to get a sense of what my spiritual gifts are. There was a helpful book that gave me some exercises to do in order to figure out what I’ve already developed. I was asked to contemplate who my heroes are and what experiences in my life were particularly meaningful. I was floored by the last exercise: “What are your wounds?”

I remember thinking, “Wounds? What wounds?” I’ve been privileged to live a blessed life so far. Plenty of opportunity…loving family…a wonderful and patient wife… Surely if I have wounds, they must be mere nicks and scratches on my body, mind, and soul. For I’ve met many who have the equivalents of gashes, gaping holes, and amputations. Yet even nicks and cuts can hold power, for the experiences I call wounds were formative. They directed my academic studies and led me to the Episcopal Church.

The exercise was asking me to consider the implications of being a wounded healer, which stems from the idea that our own wounds and life experiences offer ways of understanding the ordeals of others. This image of the wounded healer is well described in a play by Thornton Wilder
There was a physician who was particularly gifted at healing and alleviating the suffering of others. He, however, suffered from a melancholy that seemed incurable. And so, he is a frequent visitor to the pool. One day, he sits down to wait with a few other people and an angel eventually appears and troubles the water.

The physician gets up and starts moving toward the pool, but the angel stops him, “This healing is not meant for you.”

The physician replies,” "Surely, surely, the angels are wise. Surely, you are not deceived by my apparent wholeness. Your eyes can see the nets in which my wings are caught; the sin into which all my endeavors sink half-performed cannot be concealed from you."

To which the angel replies “Without your wound where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve.”
“In the service of love, only wounded soldiers (or rather healers) may serve.”

Notice what was not said here. God does not will our wounds, nor our suffering. But by living in a broken world, we do not live scot-free… free of pain and suffering. This we know. The reading today from Revelation, in which the reign of God is described, is to be a kingdom in which the healing of the nations is offered.

The word ‘nations’ is telling. It is the same word that is given in Matthew 25, in which we are given the image of the Son of Man gathering all people to him so that he may ask us: Did you feed the hungry?…give drink to the thirsty?…clothe the naked?…visit the sick and the prisoner? The words ‘nations’ is collective, and yet it maintains a focus on an individual’s responsibility to “the least of these.”

What would it mean to work to bring about the Kingdom of God? How can we apply the Gospel today to what we know about our existence on this side of eternity.

First, notice that Jesus is in town for a festival. Presumably he would be heading to the temple… we know he ends up there later, but he goes to the pool first. He is going to a celebration, but he first seeks out the broken and the marginalized.

Second, Jesus seems to have sought out the neediest person, for the man in the story had been there for 38 years….the person for whom even this seemingly miraculous system of healing had failed.

Third, Jesus healed the man, but notice what is missing from this story. Jesus starts the conversation.

“Do you want to be made well?”

The man answered, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me."

The man had no idea who Jesus was, and when asked if he wanted to be healed, he talks about the pool. He has no interest in what this stranger before him may have to offer. We have Jesus, then, healing a man… with no preconditions… who did not ask for healing from Jesus…and who did not even know who Jesus was.

Perhaps this is the way we are to interact with the world as the Body of Christ, as the Church. To offer the peace of God and to attempt to heal the ills of our world, society, and neighbors…and to offer it freely!

Perhaps our own wounds and life experiences can inform how we are kind to others… How we understand their wounds… How we arrive at the ability to have compassion and love for the “blundering children on earth.”

The compassion that I am talking about does not come naturally. When one holds their broken body, mind, soul...their story...out to us, they clutch it at the same time...ready to draw it back in to themselves. They wait to see if we will minimize their suffering for the sake of our own comfort. We do this when we say things like, "Well that doesn't sound so bad," or "that was years ago, why are you still talking about it."

We pray for this kind of compassion every Sunday. Think of the blessing that Gil dismisses us with,

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers,
half-truths, superficial relationships,
so that you will live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice,
oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you will work for justice, equity, and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain,
rejection, starvation, and war,
so that you will reach out your hand to comfort them and change their pain to joy.

And may God bless you with the foolishness to think that you can make a difference in the world,
so that you will do things which others tell you cannot be done.

The blessing goes beyond asking for good things for other people! We ask God to grant us discomfort, anger, tears, foolishness. All the better to understand those whom we have a duty to comfort.

Maybe when we have that understanding, healing can commence.

Maybe when we seek to heal others, resurrection can occur...and the Kingdom of God may be glimpsed.'

Amen.
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Update 5/10/10:

I added a paragraph that was not in the draft but in the spoken sermon.